


What Happens When You're an Idiot in Love

by CaptainTsukiko



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Love is apprently expressed through rape, M/M, Pointless fluff., apprently Takaba forgot how food works, how do i even tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 20:19:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8728774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTsukiko/pseuds/CaptainTsukiko
Summary: Eye-sex does not equate to love. Nor does rape. But apparently Asami Ryuichi didn't pass his morality test in high school.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grinner_H](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grinner_H/gifts).



> fuck me, I'm an asshole  
> you can throw rotten eggs at me now cause I'm FINALLY back!
> 
> Thanks so much to oninoshirosaki. I love you so much ❤️

It's official now. Really. The hero known as Takaba Akihito is going crazy.

Clicks of eternal doom fill the void as Takaba types away. He clicks his tongue, and the sound echoes around the room. His eyes briefly look at the clock, reading half-past midnight before he groans. Has it been two minutes? Or should he wait a bit more? Oh god... Maybe not-? Takaba gets up. Fidgets his way down the hall, catching a sneaky glance at Asami to check if he had been looking.

Of course not, Takaba snorts, once he gets his fat hands on that newspaper it takes an act of God to get his attention. A slight skip adds to his strides, smiling like an idiot he raises a hand to open the kitchen door...

A stricken look crosses his face. Takaba turns around, treads back to his room. A booming sound follows quickly once he shuts his door, then a lesser sound of him locking it.

Fuck him for being a dumbass. Fuck Asami Ryuichi for having an empty fridge.

And, most importantly, fuck his goddamn dinner.

And for gods sake, how much water do you really add to instant soup?!

.

You throw a glance at the hazel door, almost lazily, your gaze flickers to the clock.

_3... 2... 1—_

Soft footsteps grace the hall to the kitchen again, and back to Takaba's room. A repeat of that loud booming sound makes you quirk a brow. This is unusual. Maybe not highly unusual. _But he's making dinner,_ you think, _he's always strange when he's making dinner._ But how many times has this been now? You check, twenty times at least. And you're thoroughly getting sick of it.

There're a lot of things Takaba does crazy. Wonderfully. Maybe even cute if the occasion arises.. But this... this...

A loud sigh tears through as you get up.

But this, was getting out of hand. Really, really out of hand.

You can't even cry. (Why do _you_ always have to the example in this house?)

You turn the latch to Takaba's door; locked. Reaching a graceful hand into a back pocket, you fish out a spare key, unlocking the door in spite of the rebuttal that yis expected.

"Wha-- hey! What the hell?!" Grabbing one flailing calloused hand, you solemnly drag him to the kitchen down the hall (which, just might have dents from Takaba's pacing. Asami will have to make him pay for it tonight.) feeling slightly optimistic, you flash a oil slick smirk down at the blond.

Not even frightened, Takaba's face says, ears tinted red with anger, "goddamn it, what the fuck are you planning now--?"

Absolutely nothing, your face says. There really is nothing better in the world than playing mind games with the blond kit.

"It seemed it was too hard for you to confront your mistakes. So, naturally, I'm correcting them." Almost shoving him through the door, you halt. "The soup is boiling over."

"Fuck off." The blond huffs, rubbing his jaw, looking much like a ruffled cat. Asami stops the ludicrous urge to let the glee show on his face. "How you even know what soup is? I'm impressed actually. Knowing that you live off of booze, rotten cabbage and raping innocents, you should've been long dead. If it wasn't for me, Me! I'm saving your life daily and this is how you treat a hero...? Oh my fuckin' god it really is boiling over, this is why I _**hate**_ instant soup..." He looks like that one soaked and cornered tabby you saw when you were a child. Soft, angry, proud and absolutely irresistible for it. "How much water did I have to add anyways? The instructions don't say anything."

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

Whatever you pictured as your perfect lifelong partner, this is definitely not it.

"Two cups." You say. "Everyone knows that."

He looks at you, opens his mouth like a fish and then closes it.

"You know what; fuck this."

Bauty is found in strange places. And you're so lovesick you don't even know how to be angry with that anymore. Goddamn It.

Beauty is this: Takaba Akihito leaning over a pot of soup, blond hair and red lips and you coming through the door every evening and proclaiming your entrance like some sort of... husband. It's overly cheesy, a domesticated life for a panther in the dark. Cheap imitation of a life you could have with the blond cat.

Then again.

You note that it might be somewhat cheap compare violent humans to backstreet feral animals, but it doesn't stop you from curling a hand around Takaba's waist and staking your claim.

"You bastard, get off me-- Mm!"

You never pictured having someone like him as your partner.

"...How about you show me how to treat a hero, hm?"

"Fuck no! I need to make dinner! Put me down--"

But whatever you're supposed to have, is him.


End file.
